


Party of Four

by JinnyR



Series: Truly, Madly, Deeply [6]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:27:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinnyR/pseuds/JinnyR
Summary: While lost on a DQ moon four people find something very precious.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway, Harry Kim/Seven of Nine
Series: Truly, Madly, Deeply [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826455
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Party of Four

**Author's Note:**

> **This story by the late JinnyR has been posted to AO3 with the permission of her family.**
> 
> Originally posted 2002-10-08

Captain Kathryn Janeway stood motionless at the opening of the cave staring into the twilight of the alien moon. According to her first officer's calculations she had been standing there for at least ten minutes and it didn't seem likely that she was going to move soon. Something had to be done. 

"Captain," called Commander Chakotay softly, stopping his work on building a fire. There was no response. Again he called.

"Captain Janeway. Can you come and give me a hand, please." 

This time he saw a small shiver of awakening run through her body and she slowly turned in towards the cave to look at him.

"I'm sorry, Commander, what did you say?"

"Come in and help me please, Captain. It's getting dark and we still have several things to do to secure this cave against the night."

"Of course, Commander. I'm sorry." She walked purposely towards the small pile of supplies against the wall and knelt before them, opening the containers and revealing their contents. She turned smiling at him. 

"You seem to have command of this detail, Commander; why don't you tell me what you want me to do."

He smiled back. "Sure. I'm almost done with this fire and I'm about to make another one closer to the opening to keep any animals out. Why don't you take a quick inventory of what we have there and then make up the most comfortable sleeping area that you can? After that we can enjoy whatever nourishment we have and then settle down for the night."

"Right, I'm on it," she replied and started sorting through the contents of the containers. Finally she turned back to him.

"Well, the first thing I can advise you of, Commander, is that there's not going to be a whole lot of 'enjoyment' when it comes to supper. We have a fair supply of water together with Seven's nutritional supplements, but the real food is not here. I guess we lost the lottery on that one."

He stood up stiffly from the second fire and walked to her. 

"Well, that's okay, better water than food in the long run," he replied as he looked down at her and their meager supplies. "Don't worry, we'll make our plans tonight and then tomorrow we'll forage for food. Hell, if you look on the bright side, we might even be eating Neelix's food tomorrow night."

She laughed. "Well, there you go. I don't think that, until this very minute, I would ever have thought of that as something to anticipate!"

He joined in her laughter. "I know what you mean, but even his Delta Blue Curry sounds good right about now. So, how are we doing in survival gear?"

"Not too bad. Actually, I have the feeling that we might have all of the blankets – look." She pointed to a pile of survival blankets together with other assorted supplies; they would be warm if nothing else. He watched as her eyes clouded over and her face turned to look out the cave's entrance again. She looked pained.

"Don't worry, Captain, they're going to be okay."

"As long as they don't freeze…."

"Captain…" Chakotay paused and then squatted down in front of her and put his hands gently on her shoulders. 

"Kathryn, they're going to be fine. By the looks of it they got the food and I honestly don't think it's going to freeze tonight. I mean, it might get chilly, but Harry's a trained Starfleet officer with six years' experience in the DQ and Seven is, well, Seven is Borg. Trust them."

Kathryn looked at his hand on her left shoulder and brought her own up to cover it. "I know, Chakotay, I know. Just allow me a few private worries, it's personal, not professional. As a captain I know that they're fully trained in not only surviving but flourishing, but hell." She bit her lip to keep an unprofessional grin off her face. "It's just that, well, think about it, Chakotay. Harry and Seven lost together on an alien moon. Doesn't that give you cause for even a little concern?"

He stood up and held out his hand to help her to her feet. "Nope. Well okay, maybe a little, but not in the way you're thinking. I have far more concern for the survival of this wilderness moon with those two running around it than I do about our very own AstroTeam. Spirits, Kathryn, think about it – Buster Kincaid and Miss GoodBorg on Planet X. I'm going to be pretty embarrassed if they end up rescuing us first or if we finally stumble upon them as they put the finishing touches on their fully functional Rocket Launcher."

She couldn't help but laugh. "I guess we'd better pull out all our old tricks, Chakotay, if we want to avoid being the laughing stock of Voyager."

"Keep that thought, Kathryn, because you're not far off the mark there. But let's put it aside for tonight and go to bed."

She bent over and picked up a pile of blankets. "That wasn't one of the tricks I was referring to, Commander," she smiled.

"Can't blame a guy for trying, Captain. C'mon, it's been a long day and I'm tired. I've got a couple of disgusting squeezable nutrition packs here and tonight we're eating supper in bed."

They retired for the night with a respectable Starfleet distance between them and, as they squeezed the purple glop into their mouths, they thought almost fondly of a yellow, spotted cook orbiting somewhere in their night sky. 

* * *

"Ensign Kim, you are doing that wrong," stated Seven-of-Nine blandly. 

"Seven, for goodness sake, I'm just building a fire. And, if you care to look through your good eye instead of that visual implant, you'll notice that it's burning – a very good function for a fire, by the way."

"You have built it too close to the surrounding fauna. I do not wish to be incinerated during the night."

"You won't be," replied the patient ensign. "Unless you're a restless sleeper and then I won't offer any guarantees."

"I'm not a sleeper by any definition, Ensign," stated the Borg. "I regenerate in my alcove in Cargo Bay Two. I do not require a period of prone somnolence."

Ensign Kim grinned delightedly, which had no effect on his companion whatsoever. "Well, Seven, get prepared for a new experience. You're going to be somulating on the ground right next to me until we get back to Voyager. Not only do you have to preserve the energy that you are storing before your next regeneration, you're going to keep me warm."

"I beg your pardon," asked Seven.

"Basic survival tactics, Seven. It appears we only have that small supply of extra clothes to use as covers against the elements and that means we need to share body heat to stay alive through the night." He looked up at her glacial face. "Why don't you go gather up some of that fauna to insulate us against the ground and perhaps even to cover us? Those trees over there look like that might supply us with some soft-needle boughs." 

She looked in the direction of his eyes, and hesitated. Finally, she drew herself up to full dignity and started towards the fir-like trees. "I applaud your logic, Ensign, if not your true intentions. And I demand the extra large bulky garments for myself."

Harry grinned to himself. Bulky was good; Seven obviously had no experience in how cozy it could get when hands were slipped under loose garments to generate heat therein. He began to whistle under his breath.

* * *

"Tuvok, you've got to let me go! I'm the only one who can fly through atmospheric conditions like that and you know it!"

"Mr Paris, if I thought that the Delta Flyer could get down to the surface without experiencing the same difficulties as the other two shuttles, I would have sent you two hours ago."

"Tuvok……!"

"Contain yourself, Mr Paris. Lieutenant Torres is currently analyzing the data and is working on the adjustments required to ensure your safe journey in the Flyer. In the meantime, why don't you resume your position at the helm? Allowing Voyager to plow into the moon's surface would not result in Captain Janeway's ultimate satisfaction with your performance."

Tom returned to his station but, before he sat, he turned and looked back at his superior officer. "I'll get them all back, Commander." 

Tuvok didn't even glance up at the pilot. "I know you will, Mr Paris," he replied softly as his fingers worked over the centre command console.

* * *

Captain Janeway popped her head up over the covers and looked towards the cave's opening. She was not a nervous woman, never had been, but she silently admitted to herself that the howling of those animals over the past half hour, together with the sounds of their slavering near the cave opening, had put her on edge. She peeked cautiously over at the commander's pallet and thanked her stars that he was sound asleep. It would not do to have him watch his captain behave in a girlish manner.

"They won't come in, you know."

She let out a yelp as she jumped a full six inches. She turned and glared at him as his chuckling caused his blankets to shake merrily. 

"I thought you were asleep!" she declared crossly.

He laughed again. "Nope. I'm not deaf either, but at least I know they'll never cross the fire line. Besides, I could hardly have any pride in my position if I fell asleep while my captain was fidgeting about as nervous as a virgin at an Academy semester-break party."

"Very funny, Commander. And, for your information, I've been to those parties and those guys didn't fidget all that much. If I recall, they were more into drooling and panting."

He laughed again. "Okay, one party point for you. And you can hardly blame all those plebes, lusting after girls like you. I'll bet you broke plenty of hearts in your time."

She snorted. "We were women, not girls. And besides, what makes you think my time is over, Commander?"

His eyes crinkled over the blankets and she just knew those dimples were breaking out in full force under those blankets. "Oh, Captain, I don't. I promise you, I truly believe that your time hasn't even come yet."

Her eyebrow raised as her eyes narrowed. The only effect that seemed to have on him was to make him laugh even more. After all these years you'd think she'd be used to it, but she wasn't. He could get her going at the drop of a hat.

"My apologies, Captain, for any misunderstanding my comments may have caused. Can I get you anything? There's a little herbal tea in my pack and I could make us a nice hot cup of tea to help us sleep."

"No thank you, Commander. I realise that your panacea for everything is tea, but not right now. Good night." Captain Janeway flopped back under her covers and turned her back to him. She did, however, hear his last whispered comment.

"Well, not everything, Kathryn, not everything.".

She heard him settle back down and the last thought she had was that she'd like to poke her finger sharply into every single dimple on his face before gouging out those gorgeous brown eyes and ripping out those eardrums that heard a little too well. Just her luck to be marooned with her first officer again. New Earth II – oh lord have pity on lost Starfleet captains. Sequels were never as good as the originals.

* * *

"Ensign Kim, I'm freezing."

A soft rhythmic snoring answered her complaint. 

_"Ensign Kim!_ "

"Whaaat??" Harry sat up as if shot from a cannon and looked wildly around. He finally looked down into a set of icy blue eyes, staring up at him in contained fury.

"Holy shit, Seven, what the hell are you playing at?!"

"My body temperature is falling below optimum levels, Ensign. I am not able to sleep in the manner in which you're accustomed and I must have more warmth to remain fully functional."

Harry rubbed his eyes and sank back down into their makeshift crèche. "Sure, sorry Seven. I forgot that your body's metabolism would stay at high gear all night. Okay, c'mon, shift a little closer to me."

The Borg awkwardly moved closer to him. 

"You're not very good at this, are you, Seven?" asked Harry kindly.

"At what, Ensign?"

"Intimacy, Seven. Getting close to another human being. Are you embarrassed?"

"Certainly not. I just have no experience in generating body heat at close quarters."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Seven. Here, do you mind if I help a little?"

There was a short silence. "No, but be as efficient as you can be under the circumstances, Ensign."

"Sure, Seven. Just relax and come closer."

There was a small, rustling sound and then Harry wrapped his arms around her thin frame draped in extra clothing. For all her voluptuousness he couldn't help but feel that her body was too fragile. No wonder she couldn't generate any heat of her own.

"Is that any better, Seven?" he whispered.

"Yes, a little. I understand that you cannot supply me with all my required heat."

"Where are you coldest right now?"

"My extremities and the back of my neck. I do not remember feeling like this before."

He raised his right leg. "Here, slide your left leg between mine and tuck your foot back in." As she did as she was ordered he reached up behind her head and unpinned her hair. He bunched it up around her neck and then slid his hands up her back under the insulated outerwear.

"Is that any better, Seven."

"Yes, thank you Ensign," vibrated her voice against his neck. 

Harry couldn't hold back a little shiver but thanked his stars that the cold night air would disguise its true origins. "Seven, I think that as long as we're all tangled up together you can call me Harry. We've been friends for a few years now and you know you're special to me. Now, just slide your hands in-between us and they'll get warm in a minute."

She nestled in closer to him. "I, too, value our friendship, Harry. This is much better; thank you."

He settled his right leg over her hip and around the backs of her legs. "My pleasure, Seven. Now try to relax, we have a busy day tomorrow."

As he fell asleep his hand unconsciously came down to cradle her buttock. Seven did not relax as ordered.

* * *

"B'Elanna, what's the problem? It's never taken us this long before to figure out how to compensate for something as basic as atmospheric disturbances."

"Tom, we're doing the best we can. It's hard to fix something when you don't even know what the problem is, and that's the situation we're in."

"You mean the sensors are still not picking up the true nature of the disturbances?" 

"That's exactly what I mean. And it's so frustrating! If we didn't have the last communications from the two shuttles to go by, we wouldn't even know there was a problem."

"Damn. Now I'm beginning to wonder if our sensors are actually picking up the planetary readings correctly." 

B'Elanna looked up from her PADD into Tom's worried face. His heart broke at the anguish in her eyes.

"Exactly, Tom. But, if you don't mind, I'm going to keep on believing that the life signs are real and not just echoes bouncing back from their entry into the atmosphere." 

They looked at one another silently.

"Okay, Be," he answered softly. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help – anything at all. It sure would be better than sitting up on the bridge with Tuvok. It isn't fun playing with a Vulcan who's going out of his mind with worry but doesn't even know he's doing it. It's like working in the Twilight Zone." 

"Twilight Zone?"

When this is over, Be, we're popping up some corn and breaking out the beer and watching the television set. Hell, we can even invite the whole senior staff over while we're at it – poker night can wait one rotation."

"You've got a date, Helmboy."

"Just call me Rod," he said and turned to stride out of Engineering.

* * *

"Seven, did you notice something peculiar about our supplies?"

It was the next morning and breakfast was over. The two young officers were huddled close together in front of the fire, each holding a hot cup of steaming tea and studying tricorder readings. Seven looked up at Harry.

"Yes. I was going to attempt to access the files on board the shuttle for confirmation but there is no point. Only one person on Voyager would pack supplies for an away mission in this manner."

"Neelix."

"Yes. I came to that conclusion as well." 

Harry took a sip of his tea. "Well, it has to make us think. If we've got the real food and medical supplies, it stands to reason that Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay have the thermal gear and weapons. And probably your nutritional supplements as well because we sure don't have them. How are you doing without those so far?"

"My calculations suggest that I will be fine for at least four days before becoming a burden to you, longer if and when we find more water. The doctor started me on a gradual introduction of real food two months ago and, according to him, I am at the stage of a eight-month old human baby with few teeth."

"Seven, I'm an only child, what does that mean exactly?"

"I can tolerate most vegetables and fruits if they're mashed. We have not introduced meat into my system since I have not yet decided if I will ever eat flesh, and milk has also been deferred. I still do not like the texture of breads and whole grains are too hard on my digestive system. The majority of my protein requirements are being supplied by my supplements."

"Well, we'll mash the fruit and veg and you'll keep going on their carbohydrates for a while. But I think we'd better try to mix up some powdered milk for your protein intake, too. Just go easy on it, humans were never designed to drink the milk of other mammals; it's just a habit we've gotten into." 

"Yes, although," she reflected, "I notice that many humans relish it."

"Nothing like a ham sandwich and a glass of milk, Seven! But we still have to be very careful with you – no nutritional supplements together with no regeneration is going to start to take its toll on you. Too bad all the shuttle systems are down, I would have liked to replicate those supplements for you. Oh well, that can't be helped, I guess."

She answered him quietly. "Thank you, Harry. But I am sure that I'll contribute to our survival for quite some time. I am Borg."

He reached out and patted her implanted hand. "Gotta love that in a woman," he smiled.

* * *

"Here, Captain, drink this."

Chakotay was kneeling beside the captain, holding a cup of bitter liquid to her lips as his other arm supported her sitting up. She gained control of her bearings and shook him off. Then she glared at him.

"Commander, for crying out loud – I'm not on my death bed, I simply sprained my ankle. And that stuff smells like the Bolian track team and I have NO intention of putting it down my throat. Go away."

"No. I went to a lot of trouble trying to analyze all that bark out there, Kathryn, and I think I found one with the same analgesic properties of willow bark. It'll help the pain, so drink it. That's an order."

She merely rolled her eyes. "Good try, Three-Pips. Now bug off."

"Kathryn," he said in a low, dangerous tone. "You haven't been looking at me enough, lately. Your 'three-pip' XO is six years dead and the one in front of you wearing the Maquis rank bar has no intention of bugging off. If you insist, I'll sit on you and pour this crap down that lovely white throat of yours without blinking an eye. Now, make your choice and make it fast. My temper is wearing thin."

"Take a hike, Chakotay. How do you know that won't kill me – the tricorder isn't exactly reading things at 100%, you know. It thought I was a goat for a couple of minutes this morning." 

"Wrong choice, Kathryn." Chakotay carefully placed the steaming cup away from them and then pushed her flat on her back. Then, to her complete shock he straddled her and brought his face down until they were nose to nose. 

"You know what, Kathryn, I _don't_ know if it'll kill you – but if it doesn't I might just do the job myself. I told you to stay away from that ledge and…" he pointed a finger in her face to stop her protest… "I have no intention of making a habit of saving your ass every ten minutes. Spirits! We have no food and no medical supplies and you're jumping around a rocky mountain slope expending precious energy and then falling off! Who says the tricorder read you wrong?!"

"Commander. You're sitting on me. Get off and that's an order."

"Good try, Four-Pips. Now, do I pour this down your throat or are you going to act like a Starfleet officer and drink it without whining?"

"I'll have you on report for this, Chakotay. The only thing you'll ever lead again is that Bolian track team, and I assure you I won't be putting up with that odour in the chair next to mine."

"That's tomorrow – this is today. Right now I have you on the floor and, you know what? It feels good." He grinned. "I file reports, too, Captain, and I'm sure the doctor will be on my side. Now, open wide and say ahhhhhh." He reached over and grabbed the mug.

She started to squirm under him and he had to keep shifting against her hips to keep the hot tea in the mug. Suddenly their eyes met and they froze. 

Chakotay slowly set the mug down for the second time and leaned down to whisper against her ear. "What do you want, Kathryn – tell me what you want."

Kathryn bit her lip against the feeling of his breath against her. "Give it to me. I'll do it myself."

He slid off her and once again retrieved the mug and handed it to her. "Well, it was a choice. But Kathryn…."

Her blue eyes jumped to his brown ones at the tone of his voice. "What?"

"It isn't always necessary to do it yourself." He grinned suddenly and rose to his feet. As he walked to the cave's opening he called back over his shoulder. "Call me if you want me for anything."

* * *

"Seven, would you mind if I asked you something extremely personal? You're certainly are under no obligation to answer, I might not myself in the same situation."

Seven had just arrived back at their makeshift camp after an absence that experience told Harry was too long for its purpose. It was night again and they were getting ready to go to bed in their new and improved shelter. It had been a moderately successful day with the discovery of potable water and the complete, but disappointing, inspection of the shuttle. They were unsuccessful at bringing any systems back online but at least they were now able to use the cleaned out shuttle for shelter. As damaged as it was it would at least break some of the freezing wind if they slept down in the aft corner. Tonight they were going to give it a try and compare the results to sleeping in front of the fire. 

"I'll determine whether to answer you after you've asked the question, Harry. Is that acceptable?"

"Of course." He hesitated and then forged ahead. "Do you still have to wear that bodysuit all the time? I know the doc designed it for your recovery after your de-assimilation, but is it still medically necessary?"

Seven tilted her head and looked puzzled. "That is not what I would consider an extremely personal question, Harry, but I believe the answer to it is no. I am convinced that the medical benefits of this attire have now been served, but the doctor insists that I continue wearing the suits. I have no idea why – I have never bothered to ask him."

"I think I know why," muttered Harry. But he raised his voice as well as his head and continued. "Well, that was just the build up to my real question, Seven. Would you feel comfortable taking it off here?"

She stood silently for a few minutes. "Still not extremely personal but I am compelled to ask why you want to know."

Harry began to blush. "Well, maybe my words weren't the best but here's the point I wanted to make. You take an awful long time with your latrine visits and I couldn't help but start thinking when I finally realised that. A one-piece catsuit in very low temperatures in the wilds must be a – a terribly annoying inconvenience at best. I mean, taking off all the extra clothes and then…. oh, forget it. I just thought that, if you wanted, we could cut your catsuit in half through the middle and devise a way to, uh, keep the bottoms up."

Seven looked over Harry's shoulder and he wondered if that was actually a ghost of a smile on her face. No, he decided, he was just overwrought sitting there with both feet lodged firmly in his mouth. She finally looked down at him.

"You do not change your ways in thinking of me even on tenuous away missions, Harry. For a long time now I have noticed your tendency to always consider what is best for me." Then she definitely quirked a little smile. "Your suggestion to cut this suit in half is acceptable, and I do not think that the bottom half will slide down. It is extremely tight."

"Yeah, I noticed that once," replied Harry as he pulled a knife out. She stepped closer to him and held her extra clothing up to expose her torso. He began to saw the glittering catsuit in half.

"Okay Seven, it's done and you were right as always – this bottom half isn't going anywhere on its own. You are now a liberated woman, foot loose and fancy free."

She looked down and inspected the results. "Thank you. And how quaint."

He laughed. "Just another step forward, Seven. Now, are we finished with this day yet?"

"We are, indeed. Let's go to bed, Harry."

* * *

"A goat. It called you a goat yesterday." Commander Chakotay was leaning against the cave wall staring thoughtfully at his tricorder.

"Well, trust you to remember that. It also told you that miserable bark worked as a pain reliever – want to discuss that again, Commander?"

"I do not. I'm sorry for what happened but everyone gets Montezuma's Revenge on a trip at least once in their lifetime. This was just your turn is all and you should think on the bright side."

"Uh-huh. Bright side?"

"Yes, bright side. You're now as clean as a whistle and imminent but unavoidable encounters with leola root should now just zip along without you hardly noticing. But back to you being a goat – doesn't that make you think of something?"

"Yes, but apparently murder is as much frowned upon in the Delta Quadrant as it is in the Alpha Quadrant. And more's the pity, I say."

"Captain, get serious. Think. It registered you as a goat for a few minutes and then as yourself. What does that tell you." 

Captain Janeway considered for a few moments. "Well, besides the fact that you should have scanned that damned tree for much longer than you actually did, it tells me that the readings aren't necessarily wrong, they're just fluctuating. Are you suggesting there is a pattern in these readings?"

"Well, I think it's possible. I've been scanning you for over an hour now and you've been a goat three times, yourself five times, and several other living creatures, whose data is stored in our computer, multiple times. There does seem to be a random pattern in the selections."

"What else have I been?"

"You don't want to know, but let's just say that 'goat' isn't necessarily the worst possibility for your next incarnation. So I respectfully suggest that it's time for you to start being a good girl, especially where it concerns your first officer. Come on, Captain, you're not thinking!"

Her forehead creased as she tried to pull all the pieces of his puzzle together. She knew it was there but she'd had a stressful day hopping in and out of the cave to attend to the results of Commander Chakotay's medicine, and the lack of real food had certainly contributed to her misery. Random patterns….

"Need a hint?"

She sighed, but didn't answer.

"Think Mahler and look into my eyes."

His eyes were dark and dangerous and she suddenly thought of another tall, dark man that had spent a lot of time in her company, much to her first officer's disapproval. No, that hadn't been disapproval; it had been anger. His glittering eyes were still on hers and, without warning, a thrill coursed through her body. Even her toes curled.

"Counterpoint," she whispered.

"Very good, Captain Kashyk. Trouble is, we have no resources to compute the counterpoint equation down here, and Voyager probably hasn't been receiving the same disparate readings. We have to devise a way to tell them."

"Why is it, Commander Riley, that every time this situation comes up I always think that we can use Seven's cortical node to relay these kind of communications?"

"Because we can. Seven and Her Amazing Cortical Node – don't leave home without them. However, I haven't noticed her hanging around lately, solving all of our problems. Have you?"

"No, but this time I think I can save the day all by myself. All I need is my communicator and …. Throw that tricorder over here! I'm not that bad with tricorder/communicator, ah, enhancing. Came in very handy when I was at the Academy."

The commander brought it over to her in person and sat down beside her. "Enhance away, Cadet. And when we get back on board Voyager we're going to have to reserve the holodeck and go to a party. Are you up for it?"

She didn't look up at him but he caught her smile reflected in the tricorder's screen. "I think I can handle your panting and drooling, Plebe."

"Oh thank goodness for that, because there's going to be plenty of both. Now, bag us a Borg, Captain."

* * *

"You wanted to show me something, Lieutenant Torres?"

"Yes, Tuvok, come and take a look at this. I think we've discovered something that's going to help with bringing our people home." She pointed to the monitor as Tuvok came up behind her. They stood quietly as the data scrolled slowly, absorbing the facts and extrapolating them to fit the solution to their problem. 

"Miss Torres, I commend you, I believe you have indeed recognised something very important. But may I ask how you actually thought of it?"

"I don't really know, Tuvok. Tom and I were eating lunch in the messhall and I started to think of that Dorvan incident and it just came to me. I said something, he added to it, and suddenly we were both excited and ran back to our stations to work it out." 

Tuvok raised his eyebrow. "Well, we won't complain about success. Well done, Miss Torres. I'll return to the bridge; please let me know when you have worked out the required formulas."

"Will do, Tuvok. Oh, and Commander…."

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Do you like popcorn?"

"Are you referring to that indigestible substance that is always thrust into my hands when I am ordered to go to the movies on the holodeck?"

"Yup, that's the stuff. Tom and I are going to have a small party after our lost lambs are returned to the fold and popcorn is involved. He has a new programme for his television set and we were hoping you would join us."

He hesitated for a second and then replied, "I would not miss it, Lieutenant. And, if Mr Neelix does not object, I will use his galley to make a dessert that can be enjoyed by those of us who do not succumb to the allure of corn. Now, let's get them home, shall we?"

* * *

"Seven, are you okay?" whispered Harry in the dark.

He heard the rustle of her heavy outer clothes and felt her fidget with their arrangement. "I'm adequate, Harry. I am experiencing some more unusual feelings of cold but I do not believe you can help me this time."

He shifted closer to her. "What is it, Seven – maybe there is something I can do."

He heard an exasperated sigh. "It's my implants. They have not dissipated the cold as easily as my skin has and it feels like I am being skewered by frozen knives. It is most uncomfortable."

Harry lay stunned for a minute. He had never even considered how a lengthy exposure to the cold would affect her implants. He recalled a winter visit with his cousins in Quebec years before; boy, that was the last time he'd ever kiss a metal pail on a dare!

Slowly he raised himself up on his elbow and used his other arm to pull her tighter against him. "You must be in a lot of pain, I'm so sorry." 

He brought his free hand up to press gently against the implant over her left eye and found it frigid. His heart smote him. "This must be giving you a horrible sinus headache" he murmured quietly. "Why didn't you say something before this, Seven?"

"Why, Harry? What could you do?" Her eyes looked up into his.

"I don't know, I just hate to think of you in pain." He rolled his hand off the implant until it was cupped around it and, without thinking, he brought his mouth down. He huffed gently in an attempt to heat the metal with his own warm breath. He felt her jump under him and then his mouth was on the implant itself, kissing it over to her temple and the outer corner of her eye. She turned her face from him and his mouth kissed its way across her right cheek to the smaller starburst implant. Again, he warmed it with his breath until he couldn't stop his lips from finding her ear and nibbling around it.

"Harry," moaned Seven. "I….I…."

"What is it, Little One?" he whispered in her ear as she squirmed under him. His right leg travelled across her thighs and pulled her legs in closer under him. "Are you starting to get any warmer?"

"Yes …. but …. but Harry, this is not standard survival procedure…."

She felt his grin against her neck. "Sure it is, Little One, sure it is. Haven't you ever heard of survival of the species?" He brought his hand under her layers of clothing and lightly ran his fingers over her hips and belly towards her breasts. But, in their journey they felt something cold and hard and he brought his face up to look into her beautiful blue eyes.

"Seven," he asked quietly, "How many implants do you still have in your body?"

"Eleven," she answered softly, "including the two on my face and the one on my left hand. Why?"

He just smiled into those eyes and brought his mouth down to hers. Their first kiss was gentle, he had no intention of either scaring her away or frightening her into one of her instinctive defensive strikes. But, as he felt her tension easing away, he pushed at her lips with his tongue. She seemed confused but more pressure from his lips persuaded her mouth to open, allowing his tongue to enter and begin his exploration. She tasted wonderful and the little sounds she made as he flicked her palette caused a painfully sweet tightening in his groin.

His fingers found that hard, cold implant on her belly and he lightly pressed his palm on it to transfer his heat. He left her gulping for air as his mouth left hers to kiss her neck and throat. His fingers began to stroke wider around the implant and he felt her body beginning to strain into his touch. He slowly brought his head up to hers and his voice was husky in her ear. 

"Do you trust me, Seven? Do you know that I would never hurt you?"

"Yes," she whispered breathlessly.

"Then will you allow yourself to relax and let me take care of those cold implants for you?"

There was a heavy pause and then she whispered again, "I'll try, Harry."

"I'll help you, Little One." He kissed her again and then slowly pulled away to look into her darkened eyes once again. "Seven, will you let me love you like you deserve to be loved?"

This time her answer was more eloquent that all her others put together. Her right hand wrapped around his neck to bring him down to her mouth, while her cold, metallic left hand slid under his layers to dig its fingernails into his back.

* * *

"Harry, why are you calling me 'Little One'? That is not my designation."

He smiled and looked down at the cherished woman cradled in his arms. "You don't get it, Seven?"

"No, Harry, I really don't."

He kissed her lightly. "Well, it's like this, Little One – when you're Seven, you're so formidable and intimidating and God help anyone or anything get in your Borg way. But in my arms you're not like that. You're soft and helpless and so very much the exquisite woman I always knew you were underneath that absurd catsuit. So, I just divided your Borg designation by itself to find the perfect name for my beautiful lover." 

"That was certainly innovative, Harry, but I don't think I want to be considered helpless. It doesn't seem to be an appropriate attitude for a free and self-aware human being as Captain Janeway has explained it to me."

"Sure it is, Little One. I _want_ you to be helpless in my arms and in my bed! I _need_ you to be that way – heaven knows I'm completely helpless around you. When you're close to me I can't help but want to make love to you, gently, hard, it doesn't matter. I need to see your face when you come – knowing that it was me that did that for you. And, when you touch me, I just never want you to stop. So, you see? Totally yours. Helpless."

She closed her eyes. "I see. Helpless." She lay against his chest for a few minutes, not opening her eyes. "I like it after all, Harry. And, I also accept your special name for me – I will be your Little One. And, Harry….."

"Yes, Little One?" he asked with a kiss on her nose.

"Will you please show me again how to do that little thing you liked so much?" She picked up his hand and guided it back to her, "And touch me here again, please?"

"Oh, yeahh….."

* * *

"Well, I guess this old thing served its purpose." Smiling, Janeway tossed her eviscerated communicator towards the small pile of trash that would return to Voyager with them. "It's just too bad we don't have the means to receive a response – I guess I should just be thankful that the tricorder was able to confirm that the connection to Seven was actually made.

"Yeah, that was comforting. And it does confirm that she's alive and, I don't care if it is unprofessional, I'm going to make the assumption that Harry is safe and sound, too."

"I think that's a safe one. Chakotay, have you ever noticed what a good team they make? A few years ago they would have needed a referee but ever since they worked together on Astrometrics…." Her voice faded away.

Chakotay grinned. "Kathryn, who do you think put them together on that project? And yes, there were days when I did feel like a referee but, once again, I was years ahead of you."

She turned to stare at him. "What do you mean by that?" 

The commander leaned his head back against the cave's hard wall. "Kathryn, sometimes you can be very dense. I've never complained before, and I'm not about to start, but honest-to-gawd, sometimes you're enough to drive a man to drink." He closed his eyes.

"You're still years ahead of me, Chakotay. What are you driving at?"

His eyes opened to gaze at the cave's ceiling and sighed. "Okay, you win; I give up. Kathryn, that crack a while ago about me panting and drooling when we programme that Academy party….."

"Yes?" she encouraged him to continue.

"Well brace yourself, because I wasn't kidding. It might have been a flirty kind of joke to you, but it isn't to me. I've been panting and drooling over you for six years."

"You have not!"

"Believe me, Kathryn, I know when I'm drooling. Don't tell me you've never noticed how we never dance together at Neelix's parties."

"I thought you just didn't like to dance."

"I was born to dance, Kathryn, especially with you. But I wasn't about to embarrass either my captain or myself in front of the crew. Besides, you could have asked me."

He turned to look at her only to be met by wide-eyed shock.

"Oh cripes," he muttered and turned his gaze back to the ceiling.

"Chakotay….."

He shut his eyes again. "Don't bother, Captain. It's just one of those things that comes out on an away mission and tradition dictates that it goes no further. You can just put it out of your mind now."

"If that's the way you want it……"

"It is," he replied shortly. Slowly he brought himself to his feet and held out a hand to her. "C'mon, it's time for bed. Let me help you up and we can go to sleep dreaming about Neelix's version of pancakes. I have a feeling we're going to be eating them for breakfast in the morning."

She wobbled to her good foot with his help and muttered something about nightmares. Then, as he put his arm around her waist to steady her hopping, she slowly turned in towards him and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Dance with me, Chakotay," she whispered. She felt his body stiffen and when she didn't receive a reply she looked up at him. "Please dance with me, Chakotay."

His other arm slowly rose to hold her to him and she brought hers up around his neck. "I would have asked if only I thought you would say yes. I could never bear the thought of you saying no to me. You could have given a girl a bit of a hint, you know."

He laughed ruefully. "Hint, Kathryn? Tom's been running book on us for over five years and you need skywriting across the stars. How in the world did you earn those pips?"

"It doesn't really matter. If you kiss me I'll let you take them off…."

His hand came up to cup her face. His thumb reached out to caress her beautiful lips as she brought her finger up to trace his tattoo. As his mouth lowered to hers he felt her fingers slide into his hair, raising the little ones on the back of his neck. He felt her mouth opening to his kiss and finally scooped her into his arms, carrying her to his bed. At least their hearts were dancing.

* * *

"Commander Tuvok! There is a communication coming in from the moon!" called the ensign at Ops.

"On screen, Ensign."

"I'm sorry, Commander, but this is connected through the communication relay system. I'm routing it to your console, sir."

"Understood, Ensign." Tuvok swung the console towards him. 

The screen began to display quickly flashing co-ordinates and data required for the necessary complex counterpoint calculations. If it had been possible Tuvok might have enjoyed a twinge of appreciation for this confirmation of Lieutenant Torres' work, but his full attention was actually captured with the next flash of data. He immediately tapped his communicator.

"Tuvok to Torres. I am relaying information to your station from one of our away teams. It confirms your theory and supplies exact counterpoint figures to aid with your calculations for establishing accurate life signs. In addition, we now have the data necessary to manipulate the atmospheric shielding to enable our use of the transporter. Captain Proton's daring rescue attempt has now been cancelled and the Delta Flyer is safe for another day."

A charged silence from Engineering was felt over the entire bridge. Tom turned slowly in his chair to gape at the expressionless Vulcan while the other duty officers were likewise gawking in shock. Finally a gasped acknowledgment was heard from B'Elanna and her connection was quickly broken. Tom had recognised the sound of her choking back her laughter. He hesitantly spoke up. 

"Tuvok?"

"Mr Paris."

"Are you all right?"

"I am in excellent health, Mr Paris. Why do you ask?"

"But Tuvok, you cracked a joke. I heard it. And, on duty, too."

"Indeed. Then, when the captain returns I will have to report to sickbay immediately. To have sunk to your level must surely mean that I require serious medical attention. In the meantime, however, I will report to the transporter room to greet our wayward comrades."

The bridge rocked with the unrestrained laughter of all personnel, except for the man in the big chair. He stoically ignored the gales of hilarity as he closed the console and rose to his feet. No royal personage could have walked to that lift with more dignity. 

There was a wonderful party ambience buzzing in Tom's quarters. He had programmed the perfect selection of old party tunes and the illumination was dimmed appropriately. Tuvok was in the corner with the doctor, trying hard to discreetly bend backward to avoid contact with the EMH's animated gestures. Neelix was standing over the table inspecting both the food and its presentation. He picked up a snack and munched on it with a thoughtful expression on his face. Harry was busy putting the beer that Tom was replicating into a tub full of ice, but was happily falling behind. The captain and commander had left the bridge ten minutes ago and were expected as soon as they ditched their uniforms and got into civvies like the rest of them. B'Elanna was standing in the middle of the room with Seven. She looked shell-shocked but Seven appeared to be her usual calm self. A closer look at the Borg would have revealed the new twinkle in her blue eyes that betrayed her composure.

The buzzer sounded and Tom called for the doors to open. The command team came laughing into the room and two beers were immediately slapped into their hands. The doctor wondered again how they always looked younger when they were together and out of uniform but, as usual, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Be turned towards them and gave them a stiff wave of greeting before grabbing Seven's sweater and pulling her into another corner.

"You mean that's why you're wearing normal clothes?" she hissed.

"Well, not specifically, Lieutenant. I just found that I had no desire to squeeze into another bodysuit when we returned to Voyager. I have acquired a taste for looser clothing."

"Well, you look great, Seven, but that's not what I mean. Are you saying that you and Harry are an item?"

"I have no idea – what is an 'item'?"

"Seven," the frustrated Klingon growled, "Cut it out! I can add two and two together and that kiss in the transporter room when you were both beamed up and then him calling you a pet name just a minute ago gives me four! He finally nailed you – don't deny it!"

Seven sighed but her eyes still danced. "I must have the doctor give me a lesson on vernacular language. If you mean, Lieutenant, that Harry and I have reached an agreement on our mutual intimate lives, then you are, indeed, correct."

"I knew it! Harry always said that your resistance was futile! But what does "Little One" stand for?"

"Well," said Seven with satisfaction as she turned to go greet the new arrivals. "Let's just say that it doesn't refer to any part of Harry."

* * *

"Tom, just how _did_ you and B'Elanna figure out that the readings you were receiving were based on a counterpoint calculation? I mean, it's not exactly a common phenomenon." 

Harry and Tom were replicating yet another round of beer - very exuberantly. The party was in its third hour and their natural enthusiasm, not to mention the beer, was catching up to them. Their lower legs were soaked from the ice water made from the melted ice in the bucket and the carpet was starting to squish. Tuvok decided from across the room to keep one eye on them – it wouldn't do to have two senior officers relegated to the brig on such a happy occasion. 

"Harry, I have no idea. We were just sitting in the messhall trying to eat but we just didn't have the stomach for it, you know? Four of our favourite people lost on that moon, not knowing if you all were dead or alive, not knowing how to locate you let alone rescue you – I tell you, Harry, it wasn't a fun two days."

"Well, it wasn't a day at the beach for us, either. Although," Harry grinned, "it did have its high points."

"Points that we have yet to discuss, Harry. Especially the two that instantly come to mind."

"Watch it, Tom. If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, back off." He deliberately stamped his foot near Tom and watched in satisfaction as a tiny cascade of water hit Tom's boot.

Tom laughed. "Oh brother, you're dead. Say farewell to your life as you knew it, Harry; you have been officially assimilated. Anyway, we were both just sitting there, sinking into that dreary music that Neelix has started to pipe into the hall, and then Be looks up at me and says something that clicks in my brain and that was it. We were off to the races."

Harry laughed as he dropped four more bottles into the bucket. 

"Careful with the backsplash, Mr Kim!" cried Neelix as he received a spray of water to his legs.

"Sorry, Neelix, wasn't paying attention. You're piping music into the messhall now?"

"Yes, I got the idea from Tom's twentieth century research files. Apparently it was a very popular method back around the millennium to increase productivity and contentment. I thought I'd give it a try and report my findings to the captain when she returned."

"Contentment in the messhall, now there's a concept," joined the doctor. "I'll contribute to your data, Mr Neelix, with statistics on the usual upset stomachs and violent reactions from both before and after your experiment."

Tom laughed. "And I've got much better selections for your musak programme, Neelix. Mahler just put Be and I into a trance, for goodness sake. Next time ask me for advice first."

"You almost sound like you recognised it, Tom. I mean, if it had been Elvis Pretzlly I might believe you, but classical music? That doesn't sound like you."

"I may not play an instrument, Harry, but I know music. I have my deeper side and it _was_ Mahler." 

"Mahler?" Commander Chakotay overheard the name and stepped into the group. "What's this about Mahler?"

"Nothing, Chakotay. I was just telling Harry about how Be and I figured out we were dealing with a counterpoint situation but the conversation swerved into background music. This crowd just can't keep their eye on the ball!"

Everyone laughed and Be joined in. "Well, the rest of us have been keeping our eye on the beer and it's not getting any closer, so hurry up you men!" 

Tom and Harry snapped off two cheeky salutes and shouted, "Yes Ma'am! It's all yours!"

"Idiots!" She punched them both on their saluting arms and dragged the bucket to the makeshift bar. 

Before going back to Kathryn Chakotay clapped his hand on Tom's shoulder and said softly, "That trance you had was almost like a vision quest, Tom. You opened your mind to what was being offered, even if you didn't recognise it. I'm putting in a commendation for you and B'Elanna tomorrow. If we hadn't been lucky down there you two would have been the only reason the four of us are alive today. Way to go, Lieutenant."

Tom stared open-mouthed at the first officer's retreating back. He still didn't understand – he'd have to go over everything very carefully with B'Elanna later tonight. Well okay, tomorrow morning. Late.

* * *

"Good party, isn't it Tuvok?"

"Indeed, Captain, it is a pleasant way to spend time with one's friends and associates. But not too often."

Janeway laughed. "Oh Tuvok, what would I do without you?"

"I hope we never find out, Captain."

Her laugh faded into a soft smile. "Thanks for minding the store, Tuvok. I haven't had one concern for years knowing that the command could fall to either you or Commander Chakotay. It's not said often enough but I'm very happy to have you here on Voyager."

"Thank you, Captain, but I wouldn't spend much time worrying about that possibility. The commander would never let you go too far afield and I am re-reading the section on regulations concerning captains going on away missions. I believe I have found one that will allow me to attach your nameplate to a cell in the brig if I feel it becomes necessary. As head of security, of course."

"Of course – I'll keep that in mind, Commander. Although regulations have started to lose their shine for me." She looked down into her glass and her old friend watched her with a knowing expression on his face. Then suddenly her face popped back up with a bright smile.

"If I do fail to come back one day, will you do me a personal favour, Tuvok?"

"It would be my pleasure, Captain."

"Please don't let Neelix pack my things. I'm sure he'd put my very personal things in with my official logs and wouldn't that just shock poor Admiral Necheyev all to hell!"

Tuvok nodded knowingly. "You have my promise, Captain. And the report waiting for your perusal tomorrow morning advises that I have some training scheduled for Mr Neelix in away-mission organisation. Your next off-ship adventure will be arranged much better than this past one. Good evening, Commander Chakotay; good to have you back safely."

"Thank you, Tuvok. It's good to be home." Chakotay had come up behind Janeway in his usual position, behind and a little to her left. She twisted her head up to look at him.

"It's time, isn't it?"

"Yes, Captain. It's time."

"I guess we'd better make the rounds and say goodnight to everyone then. Tuvok, thank you again. You are a rock."

"Goodnight, Captain. Goodnight, Commander. Have a pleasant evening."

* * *

"I thought we were going to our Academy party, Chakotay. Why are we going back to your quarters?"

"It's just for a second, Kathryn. I want to pick up something important."

He didn't continue and Kathryn finally looked up at him. "You're not going to tell me, are you?" she asked.

"You don't have long to wait and besides, it's just a detail." They reached his door and he pressed his access code. He was in and back out with two wrapped packages before she could count to ten. "Let's go," he grinned. 

The holodeck door opened with its usual heavy sound and they stepped in. Again Kathryn was confused. 

"Chakotay, this is not a party." She peered around. "It's a couple of dressing rooms!"

"That's right, Kathryn." He shoved one of the packages into her arms. "We've got five minutes to change into this and then the programme converts to a good, old-fashioned Academy semester-break party. And don't be slow because if you're not totally dressed when it changes, I won't be responsible for my actions."

They both hurried into a room and Chakotay heard her peal of laughter. He grinned himself as he pulled out an Academy cadet uniform, circa at least 25 years earlier. He might not fit into his old size but he felt confident that he could still wow the girls. Women. Well, hopefully the one woman who counted, at least. 

He pulled his boots on and sat on the bench to wait. 

The walls around him began to blur and he found himself sitting at a tiny table with three other cadets. Raucous laughter could be heard over the blaring music and his companions were obviously in a race to see who could empty those pints first. He looked around for Kathryn.

She was across the room, just standing up from a large round table of screaming girls. She was looking around dazed-like and the expression on her face was definitely one of pain. 

"Computer, lower the volume of the music by ten percent." Some of the pain behind his own eyes eased and she also looked a trifle relieved, but there was still the continual sound that maintained the constant din in his head. He was just about to stand when a huge paw clapped him on his shoulder and an overflowing pint was shoved into his hand. "DRINK!" was etched permanently onto his eardrum. 

The place was a madhouse. Had he programmed this party correctly? He could remember the fun he'd had and the girls he'd ……uh, met, but he couldn't remember the pandemonium and the feeling of being in the middle of a Cardassian riot. His eyes searched her out again and found her trying to diplomatically decline the advances of a third year animal. He slammed his pint down and jumped to his feet, his chair bouncing back to hit a prostrate second year cadet on the head. As he strode across the room his mind recalled a few unexplained injuries he'd woken up with after these parties. Chairs, ey? 

His fist was already flying when both Kathryn and the animal felt his approach and turned towards him. The uppercut caught the young man perfectly and Chakotay's follow-through did the job. The cadet dropped to the floor and stayed there. They both looked at him and then up at each other.

"Good shot," she shouted. 

"Thanks. I think this is all coming back to me now." He rubbed his fist. 

"Yeah? What would you have done if he'd gotten up?" 

"Thrown you over my shoulder and run like hell. Just how big is he, anyway." He hated yelling.

"Big enough. And a quarter Naussican, too, I'd say. Holy shit, Chakotay, he could have killed you."

"Nah. The really dirty fighting doesn't get taught until fourth year and experience in both Starfleet and the Maquis would have saved my ass. At least, you can let me believe that."

They both looked around at the chaos. Some idiot was actually swinging naked from the light fixture of the room. Chakotay shook his head in disgust and turned to pull her away from this debauchery. He sighed. 

"Kathryn, you can stop looking at him now," he yelled at her. 

"What? Oh, yeah sure. Sorry. Chakotay, I don't remember this general feeling of pandemonium – where did you get the parameters for this programme?" 

"Well, my memories, of course…." he bellowed.

"That's it? This is how you spent your Academy free time?!"

"NO! Tom helped me out, too!"

He saw her eyes roll and he just barely caught her reply. "Well, that figures!" she screeched.

"And….. well, Tuvok had some great input! Don't forget, he taught here." His throat was on fire.

'TUVOK?!?" 

They both looked around at anarchy. There were currently two group fist fights going on – the men's to their left and the girls'… women's…. to their right. And for some reason the bartender was starting to throw full bottles into the crowd. 

"So, this is Tuvok's opinion of Academy parties!" she shrieked. "Chakotay, if Tuvok feels this way I think maybe it's time we left! Who knows what his opinion is on how it works its way to the end!"

He grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the main doors. "I'm way ahead of you, Kathryn. Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand. Let's get the hell out of here!"

They almost made it. They were within fifteen feet of the exit when the two main doors swooshed open.

A gang of at least twenty young men and women barged in, eyes lit with purpose and each holding a blunt instrument. Who or what the hell did _they_ represent in Tuvok's warped brain?

Fifteen minutes later Chakotay and Kathryn stumbled across the gracious lawns of Starfleet Academy. Their uniforms were ripped and their faces and hair were disheveled, but there was no mistaking their laughter. Finally they came to the dorm and stopped at the door.

Chakotay pulled her towards him, smiling down at her with tenderness. He let his fingers trace around her face and then bent down to kiss her gently. He didn't draw away when it was over.

"You're one hell of a fun date, Janeway," he whispered.

She kept her eyes closed as she smiled. "And you sure know how to show a girl a good time, Chakotay."

"Well, that's my plan," he said as he began to kiss her along her jaw. "Your place or mine, Kathryn?" 

She threw her head back and he continued his ministrations on her neck and throat, slyly unfastening her tunic. "Well, if you programmed this from any of my records, I'm afraid I had three roommates."

"That could be fun, too," he murmured in her ear. 

She brought her own mouth up to his ear, and after a nibble that sent a shiver through him, she whispered. "Mister, you haven't even proven that you can handle me yet, so don't get too ambitious."

"Okay," he said softly. "I'll just practise on you." And, before she could answer he put a hand behind her neck and bent his face down to cover her mouth with a kiss. She didn't back off and he slowly parted his lips and flicked his tongue in a silent command. Her mouth opened to receive him and her arms snaked around his neck. Suddenly, he pulled her tightly against himself and let his other hand cup her bottom, gently stoking and squeezing it. Just as his hand started sliding up over her hip and in under her tunic, she stiffened and pushed him away.

"Chakotay," she gasped, "take me to bed. Now."

He pressed the entrance code and then they were out of the lift, speeding to his door. With one smooth action he lifted her over his threshold and pushed her up against the wall. In another second her tunic and vest were on the floor and he had both of her hands held firmly above her head while his other hand pinned her. The door swooshed shut and he put his mouth against her ear.

"I love you, Kathryn." His knee separated her legs and with a quick hoist he had her straddling his thigh. He gently pushed his thigh into her and she moaned. "And I always will, don't ever forget it." Another push, another moan. He worked his thigh rhythmically into her while he scattered open mouth kisses across her chest. His mouth found a breast and he started sucking and nipping at it through her brassiere. Her mouth opened but nothing came out except a guttural moan. She pushed her breast against his mouth and he bit down.

Her head rolled from side to side and she returned the pressure against his thigh. He dropped her trapped arms and grabbed her butt, pulling her up against his erection. She brought both of her legs around his waist and started to dig her nails through his hair and on the back of his neck. He continued to dry hump her as he groaned into her ear, "I don't want any of your roommates, Kathryn, I just want you. You're more than enough woman for me. Just tell me when you think I can handle you. Then I'll take you to bed."

"Oh gawd, Chakotay, you've been handling me for six years now!"

He smiled against her neck. At last, she'd finally caught up. He looked into those beautiful eyes and gently lowered her to her feet. He held her close as her shaking faded away. 

"Then let's go home, Kathryn. I'm not 21 years old anymore and I don't want to treat you like just another party girl – at least not tonight." He grinned and she couldn't help but respond with a tiny one of her own. "Kathryn, I want you in my life and in my own bed. Can you agree to that? Can we grow old together?" 

"I guess we'll have time to do that over the next 25,000 light years," she said softly. Looking up at that precious face brought a soft smile to her own. "I love you, too, Chakotay. I think I'd better stick close to you so that you don't get so far ahead of me again. This has been fun, but you're right. Let's go home."

They turned and started walking and Chakotay called for the holodeck door. Halfway down the corridor Kathryn stopped dead.

"Chakotay, our clothes! We forgot our clothes! And," she hissed, "look at us – we're in Cadet uniforms!"

He shrugged. "Hell, no one will recognise them as that, Kathryn – don't you realise how old they are? They're antiques!"

She let him gather her close to him again, his arm across her shoulders, and they started walking again.

"You know what I've been thinking, Kathryn?"

"Yes."

He chuckled. "Not that, although I'm sure it'll be the only thing on my mind in five minutes. But, about our wedding song…."

She raised an eyebrow. "Our wedding song?"

"UmmMmm. I think Mahler would be a good choice, don't you?"

The End


End file.
